


Accustomed to the Dark

by wendelah1



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Episode Tag, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-03 15:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10250702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendelah1/pseuds/wendelah1
Summary: "Somehow, without realizing what was happening, she had begun doubting Mulder. Not just his bizarre theories, but the man himself."Missing scene for "Folie a Deux," episode tag for "The Pine Bluff Variant" and (kind of) for "Emily." Spoilers for season five.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vivien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivien/gifts).



[ ](http://s248.photobucket.com/user/her_new_day/media/13134399733_47f129064a_c_zpszjdhyuo9.jpg.html)

"In order to know the light, we must first experience the darkness."  
~ Carl Jung

This was her fault. 

"You're my one in five billion," he'd pleaded. "You have to believe me." 

She hadn't listened. Talking with Skinner had convinced her that Mulder was delusional. What other explanation could there be? He'd broken into a woman's home, and fired his weapon; he'd drawn on Pincus—an unarmed man—in front of Skinner and a second witness. Mulder's obsession with this case had made him a danger to himself and others. 

She looked over at Mulder. He was asleep in the airline seat next to hers, the skimpy airline pillow doubled up under his head, his seat back reclined as far as it go, snoring quietly. He probably hadn't slept more than a few hours since being taken hostage by Gary Lambert. She forced herself to put her emotions aside and examine him objectively. His broken fifth finger was still taped securely to his ring finger. His split lower lip was scabbed over. Back in the hospital, while he was getting dressed, she'd winced at seeing the bruises on his arms and abrasions on his wrists. Otherwise, he looked _physically_ unharmed. 

At the time, it seemed obvious: Mulder needed psychiatric help. Involuntary commitment was an extreme measure but she had told herself it was in his best interest. After visiting Mulder at the hospital, she had gone back to Washington on Skinner's orders, intending to return for Mulder's hearing the following week. Scully looked straight ahead and fingered her cross. God help her. She had left him in four-point-restraints, at the mercy of any determined person who wished him harm. What had she been thinking? What had led them to this? 

She was afraid that something had happened to him during the New Spartans case, something even worse than being tortured. Due to the classified nature of the case, she'd been excluded from his debriefing. Assuming he'd confide in her, she hadn't objected. That wasn't how it had worked out. He hadn't refused to answer her questions but he hadn't volunteered anything either. She'd been worried but had decided not to press him. He'd been through enough, was her reasoning. 

"You're suspicious Agent Mulder has betrayed his country," the U.S. attorney had said to her. 

In spite of her denial, she had all but accused Mulder of conspiring with Haley, a known terrorist. When Mulder had brushed her off, she had been unwilling to let it go. Yes, Skinner should have let her in on the undercover assignment right from the beginning, but she should have trusted Mulder. Why hadn't she? She had put his life at risk.

Scully shifted uneasily in her seat. She never should have let him go to Chicago without her in the first place. He wasn't ready to be back in the field. His attitude toward Skinner during the briefing and his "Monster Boy" rant to her afterward should have been a red flag. 

From his hospital bed, Mulder had pleaded for her to listen to him, begged for her help in solving the case. She had refused to do the autopsy initially. She had no intention of doing so when she got back to DC. Against her better judgment, she had gone ahead and reexamined the victim. To her surprise, she had found the evidence Mulder had told her would be there. Whether it was a bite or injection site was still to be determined. The full autopsy revealed an unidentified toxin in the victim's body. She'd flown back to Chicago to tell Mulder that even if his methods had been faulty, and his conclusions somewhat hasty, his instincts had been right. They needed to keep pursuing this case. 

" _You_ have to be willing to see," Mulder had insisted. 

Call it intuition, serendipity, or just plain luck—whatever it was that finally led her to see the light, she knew she couldn't take credit for it. Miraculously, she had arrived in time to keep that monster of a man from hurting Mulder. 

But what if she hadn't?

Maybe if she had been involved in the case from the beginning, it wouldn't have come to this. But once Mulder had crossed the line, she'd capitulated, far too quickly she realized belatedly. Partners in law enforcement were supposed to watch each other's backs. It was a matter of trust. Without that trust, people got hurt. Somehow, without realizing what was happening, she had begun doubting Mulder. Not just his bizarre theories, but the man himself.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was still sound asleep. Quickly, she took out her wallet and removed the picture she had been carrying with her since last Christmas. It had been nearly five months since Emily's death. Did her loss of trust begin in the judge's office, when Mulder informed her that her daughter was created as a result of medical rape, that her sterility was due to the tests she'd been subjected to during her abduction? Discovering that Mulder had known this information and had deliberately kept it from her had shaken Scully to her core. 

His trust hadn't been easy to win at the beginning, but she knew his belief in her had never wavered. He wouldn't have to work to forgive her. For him, there was nothing to forgive. Her feelings for Mulder had grown more conflicted every year. There was anger mixed in with her admiration; she felt both bedazzled and betrayed. Yes, of course she loved him. Yes, of course, he loved her, too. What of it? 

She hadn't shared any of this with him. What would be the point? The knowledge would only hurt him. He wasn't capable of changing who he was anymore than she could. But if they were to continue to work together, it was obvious that something would have to give. She would need to find a way to forgive him—and to forgive herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from [a poem](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-grow-accustomed-to-the-dark/) by Emily Dickinson. The photograph "Darkness descends" is by [Philip Male](https://www.flickr.com/photos/110342926@N07/13134399733/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [When light is put away](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10309694) by [wendelah1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendelah1/pseuds/wendelah1)




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